‘I am not sure.’
‘Very likely a thousand pounds or more.’
‘It must be difficult to maintain,’ said Mr Bennet. ‘Even at Longbourn, it is difficult to keep up with all the repairs.’
We fell into a discussion about our estates, and I found Mr Bennet to be a sensible man. He might be negligent where his family are concerned, but his duties in other areas are carried out responsibly.
I have to forgive him the former negligence as it produced Elizabeth. Her liveliness and vitality would have been crushed under an ordinary upbringing.
I have decided that Georgiana must have a spell without a governess or a companion, so that she might develop her own spirit. I am sure that Elizabeth will agree.
Friday 10th October
Elizabeth began to ask me how I had fallen in love with her.
‘How could you begin?’ she asked. ‘I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?’
I thought. What was it that had started me falling in love with her? Was it when she had looked at me satirically at the assembly? Or when she had walked through the mud to see Jane? Or when she had neglected to flatter me, not telling me how well I wrote? Or when she had refused to try and attract my attention?
‘I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.’
She teased me, saying I had resisted her beauty, and therefore I must have fallen in love with her impertinence.
‘To be sure, you know no actual good of me – but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love.’
‘Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane, while she was ill at Netherfield?’
‘Dearest Jane! Who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible.’
‘You do not easily take offence. It cannot have been easy for you to be at Netherfield – you were not made very welcome – and yet you were amused rather than otherwise by our rudeness.’
‘I like to laugh,’ she admitted.
‘And you are loyal to your friends. You berated me over my treatment of Wickham – ’
‘Do not speak of him!’ she begged me. ‘I can hardly bear to think about it.’
‘But I can. He is a loathsome individual, but you did not know that at the time, and you defended him. There are not many women who would defend a poor friend against a rich and eligible bachelor.’
‘However undeserving the “friend” might be,’ she said ruefully.
‘And you were not afraid to change your mind when you learnt the truth. You did not cling to your prejudices, regarding either Wickham or myself. You admitted the justice of what I said.’
‘Yes, I acknowledged that a man who does not give a living to a wastrel is not a brute. That is a sign of great goodness, indeed!’
‘You did everything in your power to help Lydia, even though you knew her to be thoughtless and wild,’ I pointed out.
‘She is my sister. I could hardly abandon her to a rogue,’ she replied.
‘But I am allowed to exaggerate your good points,’ I reminded her. ‘You said so yourself.’
She laughed.
‘Poor Lydia. I thought she had ruined my chance of happiness with you for ever. I could not imagine you would want to be connected to a family in which one of the girls had eloped, especially not as she had eloped with your greatest enemy.’
‘I never thought of that. You had taught me by then that such things do not matter.’
‘I had taught you more than I realized, then. When you came to Longbourn, after Lydia’s marriage – ’
‘Yes?’
‘You said so little. I thought you did not care about me.’
‘Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.’
‘I was embarrassed,’ she said.
‘And so was I.’
‘Tell me, why did you come to Netherfield? Was it merely so that you could ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed? Or had you intended any more serious consequence?’
‘My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to myself, was to see whether your sister were still partial to Bingley, and if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made.’
‘Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine, what is to befall her?’
‘I am more likely to want time than courage, Elizabeth. But it ought to be done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, it shall be done directly.’
Whilst I composed my letter to Lady Catherine, Elizabeth composed a letter to her aunt and uncle in Gracechurch Street. Hers was easier to write than mine, because it would give pleasure, whereas mine would give distress. But it had to be done.
Lady Catherine,
I am sure you will want to wish me happy. I have asked Miss Elizabeth Bennet to marry me, and she has done me the great honour of saying yes.
Your nephew,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
‘And now I will write a far pleasanter letter,’ I said. I took another sheet of paper and wrote to Georgiana.
My dear sister,
I know you will be delighted to hear that Elizabeth and I are to marry. I will tell you everything when I see you next.
Your loving brother,
Fitzwilliam
It was short, but I had time for no more. I read it through, sanded it and addressed the envelope.
‘Shall you mind having another sister?’ I asked Elizabeth.
‘Not at all. I am looking forward to it. She will live with us at Pemberley?’
‘If you have no objection?’
‘None at all.’
‘She can learn a great deal from you.’
‘And I from her. She will be able to tell me all about the Pemberley traditions.’
‘You must alter anything you do not like.’
‘No, I will not alter anything. My aunt and I are already agreed, Pemberley is perfect just as it is.’
Tuesday 14th October
Elizabeth is delighted with Georgiana’s letter, which arrived this morning. It was well written, and in four pages expressed Georgiana’s delight at the prospect of having a sister.
Less welcome was Lady Catherine’s letter.
Fitzwilliam,
I do not call you nephew, for you are no longer a nephew of mine. I am shocked and astonished that you could stoop to offer your hand to a person of such low breeding. It is a stain on the honour and credit of the name of Darcy. She will bring you nothing but degradation and embarrassment, and she will reduce your house to a place of impertinence and vulgarity. Your children will be wild and undisciplined. Your daughters will run off with stable hands and your sons will become attorneys. You will never be received by any of your acquaintance. You will be disgraced in the eyes of the world, and will become a figure of contempt. You will bitterly regret this day. You will remember that I warned you of the consequences of such a disastrous act, but by then it will be too late. I will not end this letter by wishing you happiness, for no happiness can follow such a blighted union.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh
Wednesday 15th October
I dined with Elizabeth this evening, and I was surprised to find a large party there, consisting of Mrs Philips, Sir William Lucas and Mr and Mrs Collins. The unexpected appearance of the Collinses was soon explained. Lady Catherine has been rendered so exceedingly angry by our engagement that they thought it wiser to leave Kent for a time and retreat to Lucas Lodge.
Elizabeth and Charlotte had much to discuss, and whilst the two of them talked before dinner, I was left to the tender mercies of Mr Collins.
‘I was delighted to learn that you had offered your hand to my fair cousin, and that she, in
her gracious and womanly wisdom, had accepted you,’ he said, beaming. ‘I now understand why she could not accept the proposal I so injudiciously made to her last autumn, when I knew nothing of the present felicitous happenings. I thought at the time that it was strange that such an amiable young woman would refuse the wholly unexceptionable hand of an estimable young man, particularly one who possessed so fine a living, and who, if I may say so, had the advantages of his calling to offer her as well as the advantages of his person. The refusal seemed inexplicable to me at the time, but I fully comprehend it now. My fair cousin had lost her heart to one who, if I may say so, is, by virtue of his standing, more worthy even than a clergyman, for he has the clergyman’s fate in his hands.’
I saw Elizabeth looking satirically at me, but I bore his conversation with composure. I might even, in time, grow to be amused by it.
‘Admirably expressed,’ said Sir William Lucas, as he joined us. He bowed to me, and then to Mr Collins, and then to me again. ‘Only such worth could resign us to the fact that you will be carrying away the brightest jewel of our county when you carry Elizabeth to Derbyshire,’ he continued with another bow. ‘I hope we will all of us meet very frequently, either at Longbourn or at St James’s.’
Fortunately we then went in to dinner, but though I was relieved from the company of Mr Collins and Sir William, I found myself seated next to Mrs Philips. She seemed too much in awe of me to say very much, but when she did speak, it was all of it very vulgar.
‘So, Mr Darcy, it is true you have ten thousand a year?’ she asked.
I looked at her quellingly.
‘I am sure it must be, for I have heard it talked of everywhere. And is Pemberley bigger than Rosings?’
When I did not reply, she asked the question again.
‘It is,’ I said.
‘And how much was the chimney-piece? Mr Collins was telling me that the chimney-piece at Rosings cost eight hundred pounds. I expect the chimney-piece at Pemberley must have cost over a thousand pounds. My sister and I were talking of it only the other day. “Depend on it,” I said, “it will have been well over a thousand pounds”. “Very likely it cost more than twelve hundred pounds”, she returned. It is a good thing Lizzy did not marry Mr Collins, after all, though my sister was annoyed enough at the time, but what is Mr Collins to Mr Darcy? Even Lady Lucas agrees that he is nothing whatsoever. Ten thousand a year. The dresses, the carriages she will have.’
I bore her remarks as best I could, and I look forward to the day when I will have Elizabeth with me at Pemberley, free of all her relations.
Tuesday 28th October
I did not know that I could feel so nervous, but this morning I felt almost as nervous as the day on which I asked Elizabeth to marry me. Bingley and I went to the church together. I believe he was even more anxious than I was when we went in and took our places at the front.
The guests began to arrive. Mr Collins was the first. His wife was not with him, for she was to be Elizabeth’s attendant. Mrs Philips followed closely after. The Lucases arrived, then a number of Elizabeth’s acquaintances. Of my own relatives there was only Colonel Fitzwilliam and my sister, Georgiana. Lady Catherine and Anne did not attend. I did not expect it, and I was relieved that aunt had decided to stay away, but I would have liked to have seen Anne, and I suspect she would have liked to see me married safely to Elizabeth.
The church filled. The guests took their seats. Bingley and I exchanged glances. We looked to the door. We looked back again. I glanced at my watch. Bingley glanced at his. He smiled nervously. I smiled reassuringly. He nodded. I clasped my hands. And then we heard a sigh and, looking round, I beheld Elizabeth. She was walking up the aisle on her father’s arm, with Jane on his other arm. But I had no eyes for Jane. I had eyes only for Elizabeth. She looked radiant. I felt my nervousness leave me as she joined me, taking her place next to me as Jane took her place next to Bingley.
The service was simple but it touched me deeply. As Elizabeth and I exchanged vows I thought there could not have been a happier man in all England.
We left the church, and as I looked down at Elizabeth I knew she was now Mrs Darcy.
‘Mrs Darcy!’ said her mother, echoing my thoughts. ‘How well it sounds. And Mrs Bingley! Oh! If I can but see my other two daughters so well married I will have nothing left to wish for.’
We returned to Longbourn for the wedding-breakfast, and then Elizabeth and I set off for a tour of the Lake District. Jane and Bingley went with us. We stopped for the night at a small inn and I am making the most of the opportunity to write my diary, for there will not be time later. I am looking forward to this evening. After dinner, our true marriage will begin.
Tuesday 11th November
Today we returned to Pemberley, after our honeymoon by the lakes. Elizabeth looked well and happy. I watched her as the carriage rolled up the drive, seeing in her face her delight at her new home.
The carriage pulled up outside the door. We went in. Mrs Reynolds had assembled the staff, and they welcomed us. Mrs Reynolds, I know, is delighted to see a mistress at Pemberley again.
We went up to our rooms. I went into her suite with Elizabeth. It was the only set of rooms she wanted altered, and it had been decorated just as she wished.
‘Do you like it?’ I asked.
She looked round her appreciatively. ‘It is perfect.’
I went over to her and kissed her.
‘Do you like it?’ she asked, looking round at the room again.
‘It does not matter if I like it or not.’
‘I think it does,’ she teased me. ‘After all, you will be a frequent visitor.’
I smiled and kissed her again.
It was some hours later when we went downstairs.
‘Are you sure you do not want any of the other rooms redecorated?’I asked her, as we entered the dining-parlour.
‘No, I like them just the way they are. They remind me of my first visit to Pemberley.’ She walked over to the window and looked out. ‘It is a beautiful prospect.’
I agreed. The wooded hill was lovely, and the river sparkled as it wound its way through the valley. I love every tree and every blade of grass, and it warms me to know that she loves it, too.
‘What did you think when you first saw it?’ I asked her.
She smiled mischievously. ‘That I might have been the mistress of all this, if I had accepted you!’
‘And did you regret it?’
‘For a minute – until I remembered that I would not have been allowed to welcome my aunt and uncle here.’
‘I cannot believe I was ever so proud. If not for your aunt and uncle, we might never have met again. We will welcome them any time you wish to do so.’
I put my arms round her.
‘We must have them to stay soon. I have promised my aunt she can ride round the park in a phaeton and a pair of ponies.’ She turned in the circle of my arms and stroked my cheek. ‘But we will not invite them just yet.’
Tuesday 18th November
We have been at Pemberley for a week, and Elizabeth and Georgiana are getting on together as well as I could have hoped. Georgiana is starting to lose some of her shyness through her nearness to Elizabeth, and although she is not as playful as Elizabeth, she has ventured to tease me on one or two occasions.
I finally feel I can be a brother to Georgiana again, and not a father and mother. She is growing up now, and with Elizabeth to guide me, I no longer worry that I do not understand young ladies. If I am ever in doubt, I have only to ask Elizabeth.
Life is a great deal easier for Georgiana, too, because she has a confidante as well as a sister in Elizabeth.
Thursday 20th November
Elizabeth received a letter from Lydia this morning, asking for help with some bills. I came upon her by chance as she was reading it in her bedroom. She looked up guiltily as I walked in.
‘Secrets?’ I asked.
She looked rueful.
‘It is from Lydia. She
is so extravagant that she has exceeded her income again. She writes to me that it must be nice to be so rich, and she asks for my help.’
‘You will not give it to her?’ I saw her face. ‘You will.’
‘She is my sister, after all,’ she said.
‘Let her ask Jane.’
‘She has already asked Jane,’ said Elizabeth, her playfulness returning. ‘I feel she means to ask us each in turn.’
‘You should say no. Then she will learn to manage.’
‘Not Lydia! She will run up bills until the shopkeepers demand payment, and then she and Wickham will change lodgings and start all over again. Think of it this way, I am not helping Lydia, I am helping the shopkeepers she is cheating.’
With this she knew I would agree.
‘I never cease to wonder how it is that you and Jane turned out so well, when your other sisters turned out so ill,’ I said, going over to her and kissing her on the cheek.
‘Kitty is not so bad,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I was thinking of having her to stay with us. After our Christmas party next month, I am going to invite her to stay on. Some superior company will do much to influence her for the better.’
‘If you must, you must. I would rather have you to myself.’
‘She will not be indoors all the time. She will go for long walks with Georgiana,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Or long carriage rides,’ I said, kissing her on the lips.
‘Or picnics,’ said Elizabeth, kissing me in return.
‘My love, I had better lock the door.’
Friday 5th December
Elizabeth has ordered a phaeton and pair for Christmas. Her aunt and uncle will be joining us, and they will be here in just over a fortnight. Elizabeth has persuaded me that I must invite my aunt, too. It is time to put an end to the hostilities, she says, and she is right. I cannot be on bad terms with Lady Catherine for ever.
Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice Sequel Bundle: 3 Reader Favorites Page 98